


Let the War End, For Him

by claritylore



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Civil War (Marvel), F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Spoilers, full-Stucky, not-Staron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claritylore/pseuds/claritylore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*** CAPTAIN AMERICA CIVIL WAR SPOILERS ***</p><p>T'Challa sees with the eyes of a panther. He sees everything. He knows exactly why Bucky Barnes has asked a certain favour of him. And he knows exactly how to help.</p><p>This is set during the period of time covered by the mid-credits scene. Do not read if you have not seen the movie!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the War End, For Him

**Author's Note:**

> So, just want to make it clear, this is a Stucky fix-it fic. Steve/Sharon is acknowledged only.
> 
> This fic is mid-credits scene compliant, but just fleshing some stuff out around it and bringing in some fix-it feels. T'Challa is an amazing character so I hope no one minds me borrowing His Highness for the starring role of Mr Fix-it.

Sam Wilson _, a pure spirit carrying him higher above clouds than mere wings ever could._

Natasha Romanov _, a serated blade, sharp and fast, both fiecely protective and deadly when pressed too hard._

Wanda Maximoff _, a child made of mirrors and light, simply blinding and unknowable at the edges._

Clint Barton _, quick as a snap, his way of words hitting more marks than even his arrows._

Sharon Carter _, the dagger in the cloak that one never sees coming, even when glinting in the light._

Scott Lang _, living between atoms, a whole life lived as one never seen by others, uncertainty in every movement._

Steve Rogers _, a noble heart sinking in a deep ocean of regrets and uncertainty, simply too good in a tainted world._

Bucky Barnes _, an angel dipped in fire and burning inside, enduring a pain that should be too profound for any mortal, yet living all the same._

These are the people he sees before him. And yet -,

 

He carries them all to the sanctity of his refuge as the agents of a very subtle and deadly war of politics come to take their revenge, and T'Challa finds immense inner calm in making amends for surrendering to blind anger and ignoring his instincts. In some ways it's just a part of the mission, began by his father, to put right the wrongs of the twisted world that has confronted him since Wakanda began its missions of goodwill in neighborouing states.

As Prince, he watched and felt pride in the success wrought by his father's actions. It was a great thing to address the legacy of their nation, to reach out at last.

As King, he knows that to turn away now would do his father a great dishonour.

So that is why he carries the half-dead warriors, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, from Siberia to Wakanda in his jet and watches them as they cling to one another silently in the back, each overwhelmed by pain, not a word raised for it. That is why, with barely a word, he next takes Steve Rogers back across the ocean to the Raft prison and allows him to rescue Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff and Clint Barton. That is why, when Natasha Romanoff escapes custody and makes the call, and when Sharon Carter barely escapes when they too come for her, he brings them to safety too.

There is much discussion to follow, naturally. Wakanda is a refuge but it is not a permanent solution for any of them. It's the round table which they have come to in order to decide what to do next.

Clint Barton must pursue his family, already forced to flee from their farm home to his safe house. He will be taken in the dead of night and smuggled home.

Despite some protest that is met with a sad insistance that it is his best shot from Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson agrees to return with Scott Lang, who is already formulating a plan to retrieve the Antman suit that was taken from him. It's the only way Sam can get his Falcon wings back as well, and he needs them, he really does.

Wanda Maximoff is much changed by her time in a straightjacket and a cell. She is quiet and introspective. But she too will be smuggled back to the States, under Clint Barton's sworn guardianship, to find safety with his family. That he trusts her enough for that, despite everything that has happened, goes a long way towards returning her to herself.

Natasha will not say where is going to go, feels more comfortable throwing out false clues about wearing bikinis on empty beaches and going somewhere with a lot of pina coladas and sunshine, but she is adamant she will be alright. She just needed time to breathe, to get away.

Sharon is the living legacy of Peggy Carter, and that it seems comes with an impressive array of private estate on the British Isles, once the post-funeral paperwork has cleared. So long as they cover their tracks so as not to put anyone in danger, she will take Steve Rogers to a place of safety, where the Carter family will protect him.

A panther is a creature of stealth, able to see all, even the things that others never could. The spirit of warriors from times gone by are suffused within him now and he can feel their power under his skin. So he sees beyond the exchange that follows that kindly put offer, to the layers of anguish underneath, as Steve Rogers attempts to be honourable and promises to stay with his broken friend, and Bucky Barnes makes a plea to be sent to sleep in the cold again instead. T'Challa sees the mix of hurt and surprise in Steve Rogers, clear as the shapes of his prey in the night, just as he sees right through the smiling certainty produced for his benefit by Bucky Barnes.

"You should go with her Steve. Practically family and all that. I'm good here. Really." So calm, so assured. Smiling. A perfect performance.

T'Challa helps them all to their destinations, happily. Sharon Carter and Steve Rogers he quietly hosts until the very last, because he sees everything and he knows there is a wrong to be righted for the man whose life he almost took, the victim of the worst injustices the world could heap on anyone.

He can help Bucky Barnes, just not in the way the man has asked for.

Three hours after he has allowed Bucky Barnes to go to sleep in the cold again, he asks Steve Rogers to do him an honour. "Please, sit and watch this monitor," he tells him, placing him in a darkened room, alone, with a screen acting as a window into the laboratory where Bucky Barnes sleeps in the cold. "I believe it is important. I believe there is something to be said that you must hear before you choose to depart."

Three hours and he is waking Bucky Barnes back up, entreating him to sit once more on one of the lab beds and dismissing the doctors. Telling him outright, "I know that you had no desire to return to the sleep that has been forced onto you before. I smelled your fear as you did, sure as any prey on the run."

"Where's Steve?" a scratchy voice, far more real than the one he used earlier when he said that this was the best way, speaks to him in return.

"He is not here," T'Challa tells him, truthfully. "You have known this man all your life?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I've been the Winter Soldier seventy years, pal. I may have known him once, but not now. Not anymore." He's sitting with his shoulders hunched, his head leaning forward, single remaining hand clutching at his knee, his hair curling around his ears and falling down. He is a man who has been defeated.

"He seems to have known you."

"Not as well as he thought." There's a pained snort of laughter that sits out of place in the room when he barks it out. "The five other Winter Soldiers, they only lasted a week before they got permanently iced. You know why? They were too strong, Couldn't be controlled... couldn't be used. Me, I was weak. I did anything they liked. Steve thinks it wasn't me, but it was me. I didn't know me but... same hands right?" Bucky looks up at T'Challa at last and there's an honesty in his eyes that was not there before. "You really should leave me on ice. You people can try to get the programming out of me, but honestly, there's no cure for what I've got."

"And what is that?" T'Challa asks, gently.

"Now there's the million dollar question," he sighs and pauses for a long moment, deep in thought. "Before I fell off a train in the 40s, lost my arm," he looks at the metal stump, flexes the shoulder that housed it, sadly, "I was a killer already. I killed every Nazi scumbag who so much as looked at him in the war. Wanted to kill off all the ladies who threw themselves at him too. I never did a thing in my life that wasn't for him. As kids, I chased all these broads around Brooklyn just to make him jealous. God but I liked it when he was jealous. I uh-, I went to war because I was afraid to lose his respect, though let me tell you I thought about running. I would have followed that kid to the end of the earth. Actually, I guess I followed him seventy years into the future too. Didn't see that coming. But it was never pure, in all that time. I always wanted-,"

He breaks away, suddenly conscious of his openness, shrinking into himself once again.

"The love he bears for you has struck me as quite incredible. The name they called him before, Captain America-, a legend, known across the world. Even here I have heard tales of him. He buried that great hero in the ground for you."

"He's a good man. Too good," Bucky says, so quietly it's almost unheard. When he looks up, his eyes are shining with unshed tears. "I've ruined his life. Ruined a lot of lives. It's about time Steve got to be happy at least." He musters a smile but it's strained. "He loves her."

"Perhaps."

"I know that look, he had it for Peggy Carter. Honestly, it's easier to pretend to be happy about it a second time round. Or maybe it's just... the man he thinks I am is long dead anyway, maybe none of it even matters. Maybe I'm just done." Bucky clears his throat and shrugs, staring through the white tiled floor.

T'Challa closes his eyes for a moment, drawing strength from within to steer his words correctly. "You are in pain."

"Yeah, well, at least it's familiar."

"You do not believe Steve Rogers would care if he knew how much you hurt?"

"Oh he'd care alright. He'd care too much and ruin his life for a lost cause, again. Look, Steve doesn't need to know that Bucky Barnes spent his teenage years jerking off in the dark thinking of him, dying to taste his skin and run his fingers through his hair. Doesn't need to know he used to cry himself to sleep in the army barracks for missing him. Doesn't need to know Bucky Barnes was a real freak. Not his friend, just a freak." Bucky fixes T'Challa with a hard, almost icy stare, his jaw clenched. "Now you know," he continues, almost as if in challenge, as if expecting to have to fight at any moment. "Can't cure that. I guess... I guess I've blown my chances of going back on ice, huh."

"No," T'Challa reassures him, cooly, ignoring the almost threatening stance that he has taken on, knowing it for what it is; a fear response, plain and simple. "No, if that is what you truly want, then it will be done. I would only ask that you take time to think further on this. There are many ways to address the Hydra programming that we have yet to attempt and some we may try right away. So do, as they say in your country, sleep on it."

" _My_ country," Bucky mumbles and drops his head into his hand, elbow resting on his knees. He looks almost ready to break down and let it all overwhelm him.

T'Challa summons one of his guardians to escort Bucky to a quiet guest quarters nearby. "I will meet with you come morning and we will discuss matters further," he promises as the man is gently led out of the lab.

He has to take a moment to settle his thoughts, to ask himself if he has done the right thing. While he knows that his duty to Bucky Barnes, as guardian, is to help him recover in any way he can, he is a little taken aback by his candid words. He isn't sure what Steve Rogers will do with the information so unexpectedly shared but ultimately, he decides that it was the right way forward in terms of fulfiling his oath to do right by him.

T'Challa returns to the room where Steve Rogers sits in front of a monitor, back to the door, the light playing over him. He hears him sobbing into his hands before he sees it. The King steps inside, purposefully making his tread sound heaviler than usual, and slowly approaches the heaving shoulders.

"I have commanded a plane to be prepared for you and Miss Carter. You are able to depart whenever you are ready."

There is no response, so he continues moving closer, moving to a more intimate distance.

"A man should not be punished for a feeling so simple as love," he says, lightly. "Your friend has been punished enough. So have you."

Steve nods and wipes his face on his sleeve. "Simple," he says, before standing up and turning to T'Challa, his face red, his hair a mess.

They stare at one another for a long moment, Steve's expression hard, T'Challa's senses sharpening with the need to understand his thoughts; to predict him.

"Simple," Steve says again, something softening in his features, the tiniest smile curves at the corner of his lips. "Buck," he sighs to himself and his eyes slide closed, one hand sliding up unconsciously to rest over his heart as he sways on his feet.

In that moment, T'Challa sees something dawning, pure and bright, like the morning sun coming over the horizon of the jungle. It touches him deeply, as if he has taken two stars in hand and brought them together.

T'Challa steps back and opens the door, holding it open so that the light from the corridor streams in, inviting Steve Rogers to step into it.

As he crosses the threshold, Steve pauses and gives him the slightest of nods; a silent extension of thanks.

T'Challa nods in return and does not ask where he is going or track his movement in any way.

It does not take the senses of a panther to know.


End file.
